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| agile, thank, pimple, drowsy, happy trails.Image from the Internet.
The opening poem contains all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble.
Comments are welcomed! And couching them in Poetry is definitely NOT required.
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
12 comments:
Shades of Roy Rogers! And not to forget Dale Evans either.
Roy was my cowboy hero, Sandy. Dale was my sister's fave.
Trigger was our horse. (I forget the name of Dale's mount. Oops.)
"A Sappy Tale"
I felt a pimple on my back, near my spine,
but I was too drowsy to reach it.
I slept through the night till a quarter past nine,
then gave thanks for the agility to breach it.
~ OMK
Buttermilk. But didn't they also have a dog, and a side-kick with a jeep named Nelly Belle?
Wish I had a high-res picture today. The sign says hots PEAK, coln RIDGE, poi PASS, except I'm really not sure of any of those names, and none are real places. Makes me think of the nursery rhyme "Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, pease porridge in the pot..."
Life is often full of travails
But blessed at moments by happy trails.
Don't let the bastards grind you down,
There will always be times you're top of the town!
When you're going out, and on your chin a pimple,
But you look closer and it's really a dimple!
When you fear the worst -- overdrawn at the bank,
But you're really clear, your bad math to thank!
When, klutz-like, you spill your cup,
But with an agile move, you swipe it up!
When you feel drowsy and drag all day,
But it's a day your supervisor's away!
"Lucky Pam"
Sadly Pam was not very pretty,
so she was given a lot of pity,
including an occasional ditty.
Her face did have a pimple
but it was buried in her dimple,
which made ignoring it simple.
Energetic and never drowsy,
she was certainly not frowsy,
and no one thought she looked really lousy.
As she got older she became quite agile
by running each day for a mile.
And she developed a charming smile.
She was actually smart and not sappy
and when dressed up, began looking snappy,
which made everyone very happy.
Friends helped her polish her nails
and sent her many kind e-mails
and took her for hikes on the trails.
She was never subjected to pranks,
and as she slowly rose in the ranks
she gave everyone her warm thanks.
How could I forget Buttermilk? It's a sweet-sounding name, although I was never a fan of the beverage.
You give us a happy theme today, Owen. Thanks for the fun!
How did you think of those neat contrasting moments?
When life seems about to hand us a downer, we can feel blessed by a sudden mercy.
The most recent I can think of is when I dropped one of my Rx pills in front of my little dog--
--and he spat it out. Eew!
~ OMK
I was starting to feel pity for Pam myself, Misty, because your poem started on a note of sorrow. But by the time you were done, she seemed somebody I would have liked to know.
Backhand Dept.: I got a real smile as I read your description of her appearance. I wonder how good anybody feels to have their looks described as not "really lousy"!
Good for you for sticking with the triplets. Not an easy self-challenge by any means. And you got all the clue words. I guess it helps to bury them deeper, to "embed" them with two other words rather than just one.
In any case they are fun for us to read.
~ OMK
Many thanks for the kind words, Ol' Man Keith. I liked your "Sappy Tale" too.
Own, I have a dentist appointment this morning, which always depresses me a bit. So your verse this morning was just what I needed--an encouragement to stay strong and hang in there. You've lifted my spirits.
Not all the parrots were like Icie in the Wilbur menagerie
The mother of the clan was a sweetheart, her nickname, Rosie
She had two young'uns : Zephyr was drowsy , somewhat laissez faire
Ember was the agile one a swinger; devil may care
Now Fire was the oldest , the king of the avian castle
He appreciated the snacks , tweeted thanks, never gave Bill a hassle
He still mourned his long lost love Fifi, who was egg-bound and passed
After that any trials and tribulations were a mere pimple on his ass
When Wilbur with keys in hand headed out to the car
Fire would chirp "Happy trails ", in bird that's "Au Revoir "
WC
Delightful avian poetry, Wilbur, really good stuff.
I thought of you & your verses yesterday evening when I was treated to a belated Father's Day dinner at our local PF Chang's.
Just outside the window by our table we watched as two large green parrots flitted from a large palm tree onto the ledge near us, where they spent the next hour grooming one another.
I asked the waitress if she knew them, and she said Yes, they were the two "residential parrots" they called Zeke and Susan, after the Chang bartenders.
Cool!
~ OMK
Sad about Fifi, Wilbur, but it seems as though Fire is more or less recovered. He'll always mourn her, but he's pretty much back to normal.
Zephyr and Ember sound quite like my two great grandsons: one sweet and agreeable, the other assertive and demanding. I'm sure Rosie loves them both very much.
Wow, so many names, so many birds, so much excitement--many thanks, Wilbur.
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